Some doors should stay locked
by RedHotCumberbitch
Summary: Sherlock's 'mind palace' is starting to become a problem now that the woman has returned. But its not just her he has to worry about, Molly and his friendship with her is also becoming a distraction. He truly is stuck between a rock and a hard place. My First Fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

***I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTORS IN THIS STORY THEY ARE OWNED BY STEVEN MOFFET, MARK GATEISS AND ARE BASIED ON THE WORKS OF AURTHER CONAN DOYAL. ***

Chapter One: "Yoo-hoo"

"What the hell do you mean she's not dead!? Sherlock if you're doing this because you're bored, brother or no, I will find you and I will slap you senseless" shouted Mycroft Holmes down his mobile. He looked around to find himself still in one of the lounges of the Diogenes club. Taking in a deep breath, he apologised to the other members. Who unlike him were sat in silence, which is a tradition of the Diogenes. Walking down the hall to his privet room he placed the phone back to his ear. "Sherlock, what are you talking about? Irene Adler is dead. Yes I told John to tell you otherwise, but she is dead. I made sure it was her myself…"

"Yourself? Since when did you become a pathologist brother?"

"Sherlock don't be petty! She is dead." Mycroft sighed as he poured his brandy and continued talking as he did so. Phone pressed to his ear by his shoulder Mr Holmes spoke of all the ways he knew that the woman was dead. He was cut off by the clicking tone as his younger brother hung up. Mycroft had known that Sherlock had grown close to her. To what extent he did not know after all this was Sherlock Holmes the Virgin and she affectingly called him. It was then that his phone beeped. Upon unlocking it came an email from his dear brother containing an image that made the whole world seem to stop. There was Irene Adler getting into a blue convertible Jaguar outside of 221B Baker Street plain as day.

He was straight onto the phone with the top agents of MI6, MI5, the FBI and the CIA. Meetings where set up and surveillance of the highest level ordered. Irene Adler was once again number one on his hit list.

Sherlock sat down with a smirk knowing exactly what his brother would be doing. It was amazing the trouble one woman could cause in a matter of minutes. His smirk grew into a smile when he received a message from his dear brother:

Why is she back Sherlock? How? – Mycroft

She didn't say. – SH

What exactly did she say? – Mycroft

She didn't. – SH

Sherlock don't make me order you. – Mycroft

Sherlock picked up his phone and called his royalist of a brother. "I'd like to see you try Mycroft." He snarled down the receiver as his brother answered.

"I want to know how she can still be alive." He shouted

"I'm assuming that you're not in the Diogenes brother. You could be thrown out for that volume. And anyway you and John said she was in America."

A sigh came down the phone. "It was you." Mycroft felt like screaming. Another thing to add to the long list of reasons to 'get rid' of Sherlock. "….." He had no idea what to say next and he didn't have to think much longer as the click of the phone hanging up sounded.

The smile faded from Sherlock's face at the realisation that she was back. He had to admit that his brother was right to question her arrival. All she had done was turn up to baker street, sit in his flat waiting for him to come back and then go when he came. Not saying a single word, not even to Mrs Hudson, who hadn't know she had been in the house. The window? She seems to like those. Must be one of her 'things' as she would put it. Sherlock took up his violin and began to pluck it absentmindedly as he entered his mind palace.

The room that had her name above it was so much different to all of the others. There were only two rooms that where always locked in there. One belonged to her and the other to a Miss Molly Hooper, who was soon to be Mrs Rowland. Molly's room had a new lock on it, two to be exact. He rarely entered it anymore. When he stayed with her he learned who she really was and he gave her a larger room than before with a lock to restrain himself from going in to often.

Irene's on the other hand was far different to her's. Molly's was decorated like an up market hotel, cream and blue prints covered the main wall where the fire place sat. Its roaring flames giving off a golden glow that filled the room reflecting of very piece of gilding on the books to the mirrors. It was so inviting, sometimes when he was out in Eastern Europe, he would lay were he could for the night and imagine he was there. Just sat there. But Irene's room was so very different. Dark purple, almost black, wallpaper covered all of the walls, the furniture was the exact same as Molly's with its plush stuffing except the woman's was rose red compared to the white gold and blue coloured ones in Molly's.

He slowly turn the lock on Irene's door and walked in. There she sat up on an exact copy of his leather chair in the middle of the room. Everything had been moved to a side. How did she do that? It was his bloody mind palace not her's. He took a step closer and the room elongated, with every step he took she went further back. It was only when he gave in and turned to the door again he felt her arms around him. "You're not going to leave me now are you?"

Her voice was as smooth as cream. His body turned against his will. There it was. Her smirk that made her eyes glow with mischief. "Why are you here Irene?" it sounded more like a statement than a question. There again it was possibly the only way you could get her to do anything if you talked to her like that.

"This is my room."

"Irene, I mean it why are you here? Why are you back in London?" he suddenly wished he was back in Molly's room. He wished to be sat with her and even with that annoying ginger cat of her's. Irene's smirk grew.

"Telling you would be playing fair." She held her mobile in her hand and shuck it once or twice slowly. He felt distant and the sound of Mrs Hudson's "yoo-hoo" brought him back. His eyes flu open.

"Your phone was beeping" smile Mrs Hudson as she placed his cup of tea on the table beside him.

"Two messages?" he frowned.

"What dearie?"

"Nothing." 'Two messages?' he thought as he unlocked it. One from Molly and One from Irene. He didn't bother deleting Irene's number. Sherlock had had a feeling she would come back one day. He opened Irene's first though it was Molly's that was at the top.

Telling would be playing fair – IA

Molly's message was far more interesting and more precious. She never text him anymore. 'To busy being Tom's fiancé' he thought he was even considering not answering, but that would be idiotic.

Can you ring the home number please? Get me out of here Holmes. I'm going to kill him. – Molly x

If you kill him…can I use him for experiments? – SH

You do that already remember? "It was an experiment to see the effect of the drug Mrs Ferns used on her husband constantly. He's dead and Mike said no like John and Greg…." – Molly x

And? He was fine. – SH

Please Sherlock just do it. – Molly x

Fine – SH

Picking up the house phone he deled her number, which he knew off by heart, for work reasons of cause. "Hello."

"What do you want?" Snarled Tom.

"Now. Now Tom play nice for Molly's sake." Holmes couldn't help but smirk.

"She's not here…"

Sherlock cut him off straight away. "Yes she is Tom I can hear in the background. Less that's some other young woman in your living room. You have no sisters and no extended family, and your female friends I know. So in less you're cheating on her. Which would be a very stupid thing to do when I'm involved. Now. Put. Her. On." Holmes couldn't stand him at the best of times.

"Look you….. Hello? Sherlock…." Molly had snatched the phone from her fiancé "Sherlock what did you want?"

"Need some things from Bart's. Could you?"

"That's why you called?"

"Yes why?"

"Fine, but next time text. And do you always have to get him fired up?" She was good at this. In fact very good at this.

"He'd get jealous. Are you doing this because you're bored Molly?"

"Shut up. And no he wouldn't. Tom knows that the only reason you call or text is for work."

"Well let me tell him that then. Put it on speaker-phone."

"If you promise to be nice."

"Aren't I always?" he smirked at her sigh as she click the button for speaker-phone. "Right, Tom listen to me. The only reason why I ring or text Molly is about work. However if you continue to be jealous or suspicious I think I may have to have an affair with Molly just to settle your mind. After all I know she wants me and who can blame her."

"SHERLOCK! You know what I'm not going to help you tonight or the whole of this week!" she growled down the phone. "Apologize NOW! Sherlock."

He couldn't hold in the laughter. "Fine. I'm so dreadfully sorry Tom. It was in terribly bad taste of me to say such a thing. I…." a growl came down the phone and then he was cut off as Molly ended the call.

Still laughing Sherlock put the phone back in the stand and sat back down. He was still chuckling when John and Mary reappeared.

"What are you laughing at?" asked Mary with amusement. She hadn't seen Sherlock laugh like that in a long time.

"Molly Hooper." He smile "Well Molly and Tom" snarled at that name.

"Oh god what have you done to them now?"

"Him."

"No, Sherlock. Them, you piss off Tom which you always do, they have a fight and she gets upset….."

"She started it."

"What?"

"She told me to ring and annoy him because she was sick of him and being bored."

"Wow. She's good." Laughed Mary as she sat down.

"Sorry." Now John was really lost and it seemed that now Sherlock was going the same way. Sherlock saying that Molly was bored and wanted an argument with Tom. He didn't want to think about it really. If it was anything like what he and Mary did after a fight he really really didn't want know. Though was she really that desperate?

"Oh, you two will never cess to amaze me when it comes to you and understanding us women. I'm surprised you haven't notice Sherlock. There again you have the case of 'the woman's return' to deal with…"

Sherlock had totally forgotten about Irene Adler.

"…shall I tell you what you missed Sherlock?"

"Missed? Missed what?"

Mary sighed and went on to explain that Molly wanted rid of Tom and the best way to do that is get Holmes involved. Hoping Tom would get too jealous and leave her. Both men just looked at her blankly as if she was specking in another language.

"Wait. Why do you think I'm interested in Irene Adler?" He said with a furrowed brow. For the rest of the day he pondered whether he was bothered about Irene at all. She hadn't changed at all, clearly she liked been the centre of attention still. And Molly, why would she get him involved and why did he agree to get involved in something like that?


	2. Chapter 2 coffee?

***I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY IT IS PURELY FANFICTION BASED ON THE TV SERIES SHERLOCK.***

Chapter Two: Coffee?

Molly walked though from her office and into the lab with two steaming hot cups of coffee. It hadn't taken long for her and Sherlock's relationship to go back to normal. He'd come in, take over her workbench and order coffee. The first couple of times she had joked about it with him telling him to "sod off you cheeky git." But after a while they had just stopped. There were times when they would both look at each other and just laugh, something reminding them of what little time they had together. Putting his coffee down in front of him she gave him a questioning look. "And why are you looking at me like that Mr Holmes, you remember what I said don't you?" she joked.

"Yes, Molly. What do you take me for?" Sherlock quirked one eyebrow with a smirk.

"A man."

"Funny."

"I mean it Holmes. No. More. Body. Parts. For. The. Rest. Of. The. Week." With these clear, pointed words she poked him repeatedly, with her forefinger prodding his left collar-bone playfully. As she walked away from him, a faded blush covering her checks, Molly heard him sigh and his steps lightly walking from the stool where he sat to where she stood. Her blush grew when she realised just how close he had got to her. She shivered as he placed one large hand on her small right shoulder.

"Fine." He whispered, his breath tickling her the back of her neck. And just before she gave in to the thought of leaning her head back to rest on him he spoke again. "Pass me my coat will you?" Sherlock smirked at her reaction, which he could see in one of the glass carbonates across the room. She had clenched her eyes tightly shout trying to hide what her pupils gave away.

Taking a tight grip of the fabric Molly passed the large coat to him. "Here." She replied in a voice that shuck a little from the lust she tried to hide.

"Thank you, Molly." His husky tones rippled through her stomach. Laying it over his arm he walked to the lab door. "Oh and Miss Hooper…."

"Y-yes Sherlock." 'Damn how the hell does he do that?' She though when she gave her stuttered answer.

"I'm right in presuming that we are going on five-day weeks? After all that's only fair." He smirked and left.

"God damn that man!"

By the time he had got home and turned his phone back on he had seven texts from his brother waiting for him. All of which he read, but did not answer. Why should he? Every one of them was about Irene Adler and how he wanted her found. Anybody would think that he, Mycroft Holmes was worried about her.

"Answer your phone will you. I've been calling you for the past hour." Moaned John.

"Had it turned off."

"You never have your phone off?" Questioned Greg who was relaxing in Sherlock's favourite chair.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh. Charming. It's nice to see you too." Greg stated with a smirk.

"Why are you both here? You have a job. And you, you have paper work to fill in, or something tedious like that anyway." He seemed to almost growl.

"It's my day off and Greg has found 'the woman'."

Sherlock immediately turned to look at them. "Oh, really? Mycroft will be pleased. Watch out he might give you both a knighthood." Holmes' eye sparkled with excitement. At last a case to stop the boredom.

For the next few days Sherlock spent every waking moment searching for her and trying to figure out why she was back. Then out of the blue she appeared in the café down stairs. Something wasn't right. Irene Adler, the woman from Belgravia. The woman who had the royals under her thumb and dined in the most expensive restaurants London had to offer every night, was now sat in a greasy spoon café.

"At last, don't you know it's rude to keep a lady waiting?" She smiled sweetly. She clearly wanted something. "No, I don't."

"Sorry?" He was Utley confused.

"You think I want something. I don't. I'm simply here to chat." She took a sip of her coffee. "God, I knew I should have got you to meet me in Harrods' this is disgusting."

"Snob" Holmes muttered under his breath. "When you're ready Sarah." "

So you come here often? Why?" She did not understand. The place was so, well normal. The woman couldn't imagine why anyone would ever come back a second time let alone be a regular.

"Yes, when Mrs Hudson is being insufferable. Or Mycroft is looking for me. Apparently he wouldn't be seen dead here." He said distantly. "Ah, Sarah thank you." He winked at the tall, waitress with her dark red dyed hair and blue eyes. "How's your mum? Any better?" Irene couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sherlock Holmes making small talk with a dim-witted waitress with no fashion sense and the most annoying cockney accent she had ever heard.

"Getting there Mr Holmes…"

"Sherlock" he said sternly, but with a smile.

The girl laughed and carried on. "Fine, Sherlock. She's getting there as I said but it will take time and the doctors say there isn't much chance of her being all the way to the person she used to be." A sad smile came over her average face. That was until he place a hand on her's.

"Tell her to get her arse in gear or I won't grace her with my presence." Again he winked at her and she giggled.

"I'll tell her. Your coffee has gone cold miss would you like another one?" Irene didn't get a chance to answer before Sherlock spoke again.

"She will…" He looked at Irene. "Though can you make it and not Liza? I swear to god a man dying of thirst wouldn't drink her coffee." Sarah gave another giggle before whispering her agreement on the subject and set about making 'the woman's' coffee.

Waiting until the young woman had left Irene spoke. She leant forward with a slight pout and raised eyebrow. "So…that's your type?"

"Don't be petty Irene."

"I'm not being petty I'm simply wondering. Trying to get to know you." She leant back in defence. 'Damn! Well done Irene just go ahead and give him the answer why don't you!"

"Why are you here Irene? What exactly is it you want me?" 'Shit!' "Mycroft." 'Shit! Did she hear that?'

'Poor thing. Well at least I have a chance.' "I've told you. Think." She rolled her eyes and tried to look bored with him. That usually worked.

Holmes knew she was playing him and that he was losing, but he just couldn't help it. Miss Adler had something over him. She was him, prepared to do anything to get what she wanted. "Irene…"he pause. The thought of the word that was to come out of his mouth was enough to set his heart racing, "…please. I need to know why you're here."

"You poor thing. How badly to you want to know? Tell me." She was leant over the table again, but this time much further. Her breasts resting lightly and a small amount of red lace from her bra was showing. This woman just could not help herself could she?

"Irene tell me." 'Oh what the hell. I'm single and Molly isn't. Wait? What? What has Molly got to do with this?'

"Oh tar Sarah…uhmm he was right. Your coffee is far better than her's." She smirked thanking the girl. Irene looked back towards Sherlock whose mouth was partly open in shock of Irene's speech.

'Tar? She never says "tar" Thank you yes, but not tar?'

"What?"

"You. Since when did you say 'tar' to anyone?"

"Well you're playing the game so why can't I?" was her reply as she took another sip from her new coffee, which was defiantly better than the last attempt.

"I wasn't playing with her. Her mum is the biggest gossip I've ever met and… one of Mary's friends."

"Ha, so you're being made to be nice to her by Mary?" she saw a small smile appear on his face for a second and then vanish again. But his eyes told so much more of what he was feeling at that moment.

"Grab your bag."

"Why?"

Sherlock took out a five-pound note out of his wallet and placed under his mug making sure that the waitress saw him. And as he did so he spoke, almost in a whisper, those two words Irene never thought she'd ever hear from the consulting detective.

"Y-you've pulled." Irene repeated. She felt her legs wobble as she stud and was sure that everyone could hear her heart beat as it raced against her chest. The click of her heels behind him brought her out of her heated day-dream and back to reality, which in this case wasn't going to be much different by the sounds of it. Miss Adler couldn't remember the last time she felt like this when sex was involved.


	3. Chapter 3 thank you

Chapter Three: Thank you.

The flat was empty and Mrs Hudson was out, a good thing to if the night was going to end up where she thought it would. The best thing was she knew he was going to be good from what she had heard from her newest client. Janine was a curvaceous brunette who loved leather, but also a good gossip. She was her favourite. Janine had information on Sherlock that she needed, but she would only give a bit and want a lot, her sort of girl especially with her 'try anything once' attitude. Irene really didn't want to be able to walk out of the flat tomorrow. She had nowhere to go, no-one to see, so why shouldn't she make the most of what would likely turn out to be a one night only thing.

Sherlock slung his keys on the desk and shed his jacket. He pulled out his phone out of his pocket and switched it off before placing it on the desk to. Irene moved towards the house phone, placing one elegant hand on it she removed it from its station and laid it down next to it. "Won't be needing that." She smirked.

"No, and you Miss Adler will not be needing this either." He took her bag out of her hand and slid it behind his chair. Holmes saw her raise an eyebrow. "John's slow, but not an idiot." He smirked.

"Why do you think he'll turn up here? A nose for it?"

"Bad girl. He has always had bad timing." Holmes placed his hands on the top of her arms and then ran them down until they were resting on her hips. But apparently Irene had had enough of what little teasing there had been. "Specking of giveaway's." He felt Irene inhale a short breath as he continued to whisper into her ear. Making sure that the lose hair on her neck began to move and tickle her. "The lipstick is nice, of cause, but I think people might notice if I wear it."

And there it was, the last straw. She grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt and in no time she had pulled him to the door of his bedroom. "I love a challenge."

He spun her so her back was against the door frame. They were inches apart from each other, he could feel her heartbeat. "So do I. And it will be you begging for mercy." The hand that had been resting just above head came down to turn the nob of the door. He pushed her in and slammed the door shut behind them. 'Sometimes bored works.' He thought to himself as she pulled him to the bed.

"Shut up Sherlock or I'll leave."

He lifted his head from where he had been sucking a mark on her long smooth neck. "No you won't. You. Love. This. Too. Much." Sherlock said huskily as he made his way down her body. The air flew out of the pillows as she throw her head back on them. She couldn't believe how easily he had made her fall apart. As he hooked his fingers into her stockings on the underside of her thighs. 'The woman' shivered at the feel of his finger nails tracing a line down her legs after the silk material. They were thrown across the room with one landing on the shoes that she had kicked off earlier. Irene pulled him up and crushed her lips against his for a passionate kiss. Her hands wondered up and down the silk shirt that was still covering his back.

"Mr Holmes I do believe you are wearing far too many clothes."

"Then please do me the honours." He rolled them over so she was straddling him with a smirk. "Don't get any ideas Irene."

Unbuttoning his dark green shirt she smiled. "Far too late for that Mr Holmes." she was going toughly enjoy this. His hands where once again on her thighs, but this time where creeping upwards, pushing her dress over her head. She couldn't remember losing her bra or been turned over onto her back again, but oh god how she loved what he was doing. He'd go painfully slow one moment, giving sweet teasing kisses running from her lips over her breasts, to passionate trusts that pushed her hard into the mattress. Sherlock was a far better lover than she had imagined, Janine may have told her what he was like, but hearing it and having it done to you are two completely different things.

When morning came it hit Irene just exactly what she had done the night before and it brought a huge smile to her face it feel the effects of her on Sherlock, even after all that. Feeling the all too familiar bulge against her back she turned in her bed partner's arms. The grown he gave as he momentarily lost her warmth set her into a quite giggle.

"And what are you giggling at?" Holmes whispered into her ear.

"You."

"Thought as much." He smiled and laid her onto her back softly. He hovered over her. "I'm surprised you still here Miss Adler." Sherlock placed a kiss on her collar bone.

"I was asking myself that." How tempting it was to run her fingers through his hair, to run them up and down his chest and stomach was great. 'What have you done to me Sherlock Holmes?

"So much for the Dominatrix, Irene." He smirked. "Though I must admit if that was you being a submissive I don't think I could survive the normal you." Kissing her again he moved off her. Throwing the sheet away from him, he stud and walked out towards the bathroom. Irene could barely move, there again she had no reason for wanting to do so. …..

...

"John where are you going?" Mary shouted from the kitchenette.

"Out." Said John sounding like a child trying to hide something.

"You're going to see him aren't you?" Mary walk from where she was. "Looks like I'm picking her up again then?"

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be I find it hilarious…" she really did. "…are you really that worried about Sherlock hunting out 'the woman'?"

"Trust me Mary. She is the devil incarnate." He unplugged his phone from its charger and stepped closer to her. "Bye." He smirked.

"Men, so predictable." She kissed him and just before he left the flat she grabbed his coat. "What?"

"Knock."

"Sorry?"

"When you go into the flat. Knock."

"I'm not going into his bedroom and why? This is Sherlock remember."

"Yes I know that, but as you said…she is the 'devil incarnate'." She winked and walked away.

"OH GOD! Mary! Thanks for that horrible image." John had doubted he would find anything like that, but his own words said by someone else made him think again.

"You're welcome." Mary smirked in the kitchen.

John walked to the bus station thinking taking that rather instead of the train would give them more time to say their goodbyes if they were together. It was full of the usual people and one or two that he hated for good measure. A couple of chavs texting with their hoods up. 'What is the point of having your hood up in less it's raining?' he thought. Then there were about five OAP's along with Terry from flat seventeen. Both John and Mary couldn't stand him. Terry would have his friends round 'til the early hours of the morning almost every weekend. John couldn't think of the last time Mrs Hudson or Mary's mum had come around on a Saturday.

"Alright mate." Slurred Terry.

'Already pissed. That must be a new record.'

"Hi, Terry "John gave an awkward smile to the twenty-something year old man that sat next to him. If it had been a short ride John wouldn't have minded, but this was going to hit rush hour. Which meant twice as long.

"So how are you buddy?" John looked at Terry, blood-shot eyes, yellowing of teeth, reddening and decaying of the gums with shaking hands. *drug addiction, most likely cocaine. Though there is evidence of cannabis on his jacket lapel.* 'Jesus I've spent too much time with Holmes.' "Bit not good, yeah."

"Shame. How's that fine thing of yours? If it's her I'll gladly sort her out for you?"

That was it. "Look Terry back off. I really don't appreciate you talking about Mary like that."

"Hey, mate it was just a joke." He put his hands up in defence.

"But it wasn't though, was it?!" ….

...

"You need to go Irene." Stated Holmes as he buttoned up his light blue cotton shirt.

"You've changed your tone." 'Oh god. How stupid can you be Irene?! Of cause it was going to be a one nightstand.' She said from across the flat. She was sat in his gold dressing gown in John's chair.

"No, I've just had a text from one of John's neighbours. Apparently he's on his way here. And…" Sherlock walked through to sit opposite her. "…I really don't want to explain why you are sat in nothing but a gold silk dressing gown in my flat again."

"It was blue last time." She smirked.

"Yes. Well. If you would." he pointed to his room at the back of the flat. "Before you say anything, I didn't mean it as a question."

Irene sighed and with a pout she stud and walked way. When she finally came back out from his room, she had put her hair, which had been loose when he met up with her, into a ruff ponytail. The top half of her cream dress was covered by his light green silk shirt and adorned with one of his black leather belts fastened around her waist.

"You're used to this aren't you." Sherlock stated with a wide smirk on his face.

She took to steps forward so she was stud right in front of him. "For that, Mr Holmes, you won't be getting these back." She kissed him on the forehead as she ran her finger from his cheek bone down his jaw and leaving at his chin with a flick.

"We'll see."

He looked towards the flat door. "Good-bye Miss Adler and please don't."

She raised an elegant eyebrow at him. 'As if Holmes.' "Laters."

"Adler!" he shouted after her, but clearly she was not fazed by it as he could hear her laughter from up in the flat.

He found himself watching her go. Why he did so he had no idea, but it felt right. Though it was a good thing he did as he could see John getting off the bus at the end of the street. With a sigh he turn his phone back on. Knowing Mary she will have said something as a joke about him and Irene and John being John will have taken it literally. And will therefore ring before daring to enter 221B. Thankfully Mary had clearly guest his tactics for getting information and had helped out a little with that one. God knows how John would have reacted to seeing Irene in his chair like that or worse.

The thought of his friends face at seeing such a thing was broken when his phone buzz five or six times. Mary had left a message…

Sherlock, heads up John is on his way ;) – Mary

Then there were two from John announcing his arrival. And a message from Irene thanking him. Why she had done that he hadn't really got a clue, but still. There was however one message that had caught his eye. It seemed that whenever Irene Adler was around Molly would be there too, or if Molly was on his mind something would happen and Irene would turn up. The chance to read her message went out of the window as soon as John Watson walked into the flat.

Holmes sighed inside, but put on a smile to welcome his old friend. "John? What's wrong? Why are you here?" 'That should put any thought about me and Irene out of his head for the moment.'

"You really need to pick your phone up." 'Oh well done John it's now back great. Good one mate.'

"Sorry?"

"I rang and messaged you and you didn't answer."

"You did? When? What time is it?" he said looking at his watch. He knew the time, but it might help convince John a bit more. "10 o'clock already? I must have been in there for a couple of hours."

"There?"

"Mind Palace."

"Oh, the woman is on your list then?"

"List?"

"Cases?"

"Oh. No. She's done with. Boring." This Holmes did mean. She could be so obvious when trying to hide something. Give the woman whatever she wants and she'll give you the world.

"What? Really?"

"Yes, John. Boring. Mycroft wanted to know what she wanted. I was bored. Now I know. And now I'm bored again."

"What did she want?" ask John casually as he sat in his chair. Sherlock couldn't help but smirk.

"Nothing, but to annoy Mycroft and cost the country millions in trying to figure her out. Same tricks and yet she never ceases to catch out my dear brother." After what seemed like hours of not-so hidden interrogation from John, he was finally left to get on with his neglected experiments.

Oi are you going to answer your phone? – Molly x

Another message from Molly. The exact same one.

I do. – SH

Clearly. \:) – Molly x

What is it with you and these bloody emoticons? –SH

Their cute. – Molly x

How can something that is made out of symbols be cute? – SH

Shut up you. ;) – Molly x

Or what? – SH

No bloody clue. You're the consulting detective. Sorry the ONLY consulting detective. – Molly x

The usual threats about me not being able to have access to the lab etc.? – SH

Yeah that will do ;) – Molly x

What did you want Molly? And if you're bored I'm telling you now that I'm NOT doing anything to annoy Tom again. It makes me incredibly bored afterwards. – SH

No I don't want you to do that. There would be no point anyway. We broke up. No I was texting you to say a body came in yesterday that would give you the opportunity for those tests if you still want to do them. – Molly x

Perfect. Are you still there? Is it your half day? – SH

Yes on both counts. – Molly x

Thank you Molly. – SH


	4. Chapter 4 have dinner with me

**I do not own any of the character in this story**

Chapter Four: Have dinner with me.

The blood droplet that he had placed under the microscope had been Holmes' point of concentration for the last 20minutes. And now it seemed to have given him what he wanted as he slammed his hands down at either side of where he sat.

"OH!"

"What!" Molly had almost dropped the two mugs of coffee that she was holding. Once again she had made coffee when it was his turn. She was far too soft on that arrogant git.

"Oh thank you Mr Laten!" the smile on his face was as bigger than the biggest smile a Cheshire cat could give.

"Wow your thanking a dead man. Are you going to thank me seen as I made coffee again?"

His face was blank for a second as he accepted the coffee she held out to him. "No."

"Sorry."

"I'm not going to say thank you. I'm going to thank you." 'Oh Molly, just as I thought, you've totally forgotten our little conversation.'

"I don't understand?"

'Where've I heard that before?' he smirked. "Molly will you have dinner with me?"

The brown haired pathologist almost choked on her mouthful of drink. Molly had heard John talked of Irene Adler and her asking Sherlock to 'dinner' and that was the first thing that came into her mine. "Dinner?"

"Yes Molly. Dinner." He push the stool away from the desk slightly and then spun on it to face her. "You and I having dinner in a restaurant."

She didn't mean to say it. She had regretted it as soon as she said it, but it just came out. "What's the catch Sherlock? You don't eat let alone go to dinner?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow "Don't you want to?"

"No-no I didn't say that. I-I just can't believe you asked me?"

"Well?"

"Yes of cause…..so when then?"

Sherlock hummed he really hadn't thought it throw that far yet. When do people usually go out on 'dates'? "How about Friday night?" he leant forward. His hands clasped resting gently in the middle of his knees. "About 7:45?"

"Oookay. And where?"

"Not sure yet I'll text you that later on." He gave her on of his signature winks before turning his attentions back to his work again. He had been that focused on the copious amounts of blood samples that he had to compare that he had missed Molly saying good bye.

Molly woke up the next day with a sigh. It was her day off and the one thing she wanted to do was sleep and catch up on last night's episodes of CSI New York. The program had its moments of been completely in actuate, but she loved it anyway. Far better than watching EastEnders or Hollyoaks. But that would have to wait for tonight. She needed to book everything ready for Friday. Hair, nails, eyebrows, legs and bikini 'you never know what's going to happen when you're with Sherlock' she kidded to herself. And of cause she would need and new outfit and shoes.

She had had her eye on a dress in the window of Harvey Nichols for months. It was far too much for her to spend on a dress that she would only where once, but she was sure that if she bought it now she would fine a time to wear it again at some point. Maybe at baby Watson's christening?

But Harvey Nichols is not a place that Molly could ever feel completely at home in. The last time she went in there with her sister in-law she couldn't shake the feeling that every other woman in the shop was judging her even the ones that didn't work there seemed to be looking at her oddly. Which was rather depressing considering she had been complimented twice that day by two different men.

So there Molly sat in fount of her dressing table curling her hair into loose ringlet before pinning it up at the back. She put on her best heels and mid-length purple summer dress. Ready to go shopping. At first she felt like a fool, but when she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the shop windows that thought flew away. She looked great.

She loves her heels to pieces, there the best ones and her favourite ones, so she likes to keep them in good nick. Molly could walk in them all day and her feet would feel fine. Her friends where amazed at her the last time they saw her in them. Because she somehow managed to run at full speed for a good ten meters when they tried to catch their bus. Miss Hooper had decided that if she was going to go into one of the most expensive shops she knew, she wanted to look her best and knowing her luck she would end up scuffing those heel and walk in looking a mess instead.

As the taxi pulled up outside of the shop in Knightsbridge she couldn't see her dress. She paid the cabbie and then hopped out minding the gap between the car, the road and the path. Molly stud outside of the window where the dress had once been displayed. "Okay, don't panic Mols. It might still be inside." Molly took a deep breath and walked into the huge store. There were skinny women in six inch heels and tiny black skirts assisting even skinnier and more beautiful women in even higher heels on the purchasing. She felt practically obsess looking at the other ladies that filled the shop.

She quickly scanned the shop looking for anything that was close to what she had seen before. But she could find it. There was no other way but to venture into the dragons den. "Can I help you miss?"

"Oh!" she almost jumped right out of her skin. "Oh- I-I was….uhmm… looking for this dress." Molly held out her phone to the blonde twenty-something that stud to the side of her.

"I'm sorry miss but the last dress of that type was bought last night about an hour before we closed." The girl did look genuinely sorry for her and did try to offer her a similar dress in green but Molly declined say that it was the navy blue one she had had her eye on for weeks and that it was her own fault for not coming in sooner. Molly thanked the girl anyway and left rather disheartened.

As Molly stepped out of the store she bumped into a woman who was coming in. Of cause she apologised for it, but the other woman just looked at her. "Maybe if you look where you're going you won't bump into people." She said with a slight snarl. That woman seemed to sum up everything she hated about woman with far too much money and far too much of an easy life. You could tell that from just looking at her. Her perfect silk like black hair tied up in a fifties style. Her ice blue eyes and bright red lips. And not to mention her size eight waistline and blood red nails on her fingertips.

"Good morning Miss Adler."

'You have got to be kidding me!' Molly's mind went blank. That bitch was The Woman? How on earth did Sherlock fall for her?

Irene Adler plagued the pathologist's mind all the way home. She couldn't find the shoes she wanted in town so the ones she was wearing would have to do. "Thank you."

As soon as she got into her flat she slumped on the sofa and kicked off her heels. Toby jumped up onto her stomach were she lay. Usually she would have pushed him off her because of her dress but right now she had other things on her mind. "Oh Toby. What am I going to do now ehy? The dress has been bought and there's no more of them. I didn't find the shoes and to top of a crap day I have just met Irene Adler. Oh Toby she was perfect, an angel for god sake! A bitch, but a beautiful one."

Toby just nudged her nose. He was hunger. Of cause he was hunger, Toby is always hunger. "Fine. I guess I should get something too yeah."

"Mew"

…

The next evening, after she had spent hours at the salon, Molly spent another hour and a half searching through her wardrobe looking for a dress to wear for her date the next day. She couldn't find a single thing. All the ones she had where either day dresses that where covered in flowers or ones he'd already seen and commented on. But just before the tears fell from her eyes the text alert noise came from her phone.

HELP ME. PLEASE. BAKER STREET. QUICK. – SH

And she was straight out of the door. It didn't cross her mind to wonder why he had text her and not John with something that sounded so important.

….

Molly ran up the stairs of 221B thank god she had a spare key after what happened to Mrs Hudson last Christmas. She jogged throw the door to the living room only to be greeted by a Sherlock Holmes standing in front of the window in a suit that from behind seemed to look twice as expensive as any of his other designer ones.

"Ah, Molly perfect. Which do you think?"

"WHAT!" she said a little out of breath. And with a red flush beginning to cover her face.

"Ties. Which one do you think goes better? I hate both but it was these or a dickey-bow and seen as the last time I wore one of those I ended up been mistaken for a waiter. Admittedly that was rather the point but I don't want to be serving soup when I'm meant to be having dinner with you. So which one?"

She let out a huff and a smile. She had known him for seven years now and he still found ways to surprise her. "You'll have to put each one on so I can compare."

He sighed and she grinned as she put her bag down. "You look as if you've been running. That's not your normal blush. It's much deeper and is covering your whole face and neck too."

"Yes I did run from the end of the street and up those bloody stairs because I thought something was wrong from your text." A few minutes after she had made him try both on twice as punishment for making her worried she finally had an answer for him. "Yeah defiantly the second one. The first is too wide. It's more of a John sort of tie." She winked at him.

"I knew it would be better to get you to decide. Here sit down would you?" he draped the two ties over the desk chair and hung his suit jacket up on its hanger that was hocked around the window lock.

"So come on then which restaurant are you treating me to?"

"Never mind that. I Have something far more important that needs addressing." He went behind his chair to the cabinet and pulled out a large rectangular shaped silver cardboard box. "Here you are." He placed it on her knees.

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out."

Molly gently lifted the lid of the box and pulled back to find the navy blue and black draped broderie anglaise Nina Ricci dress that she had wanted from Harvey Nichols. Her mouth dropped open and Sherlock couldn't help but laugh. "Sherlock this cost a fortune you shouldn't have. And anyway how did you know I wanted it. Jesus Christ Sherlock this is even my size."

"£1,285.00 to be exact. The blonde girl that works there told me that she had seen you a few times looking at it in the window, but never going in. She assured me it was your size when I asked…." Molly raised her eyebrow. "…Fine I knew it was your size….."

"Thank you, Sherlock. You have no idea how upset I was to see it had gone."

"Yeah Billy told me."

"Billy?"

"Homeless network. They really are indispensable."


	5. Chapter 5 You Said dinner !

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS!**

Chapter Five: "You said dinner!"

Sherlock stud outside of the Mari Vanna waiting for Molly. The more he thought about it maybe he should have borrowed one of Mycroft's cars and sent it to get her, but it was too late now she would have set off. Never mind. The usher had been watching him for ten or so minutes. He clearly was trying to figure out if he had been stud up or not. Things where just starting to get a little awkward when at last Molly turns up. The usher steps forward to open the taxi door, but Holmes is already there offering his hand.

As the pair walk up the red carpeted steps to the restaurant door. He mouthed to the man in the top hat who held it open "There's your answer."

"Madam."

"Oh, thank you."

Sherlock smiled at the small blush on Molly's face that seemed to grow when the young waiter who took her coat and pushed in her chair for her as she sat down.

"What?" Molly laughed

"Nothing, Molly."

"Your menus and the wine menu as well sir."

"Thank you."

"You choose the wine Sherlock. I'm sure you have a better idea of would a decent wine is like compared to me."

"As you wish. What are you having to eat? Fish or meat?"

She ummmed and arrrred and then she decided on one of the lamb dishes.

"Lamb? Okay then."

"Has sir decided?"

Molly hide her giggle. "Yes we'll have this last dry white on the list. Thank you."

"And your food choice?"

"Molly?" Sherlock hinted to the waiter to remember his manners, ladies should always first. And Molly seemed to agree with Sherlock on reminding the twenty-something of how he should be acting.

"The Lamb please, though tell the chef to hold back on the garlic." Before the boy could say a thing she butted in "Thank you dear." When he turned to Holmes she winked with a cheeky smile.

"The same on both counts, thank you." Holmes handed the menus to the boy and looked at Molly. "So what do you think?"

"Between you and me? I love it. And I could definitely get used to It." she laughed.

"Oh, really."

"Yes."

The night went on well until Molly noticed something very off. Every two minutes he would look up and into the mirror. It was if he was watching the other table behind him. Or Sherlock had suddenly decided to become as vain as Tom was. It then twigged. This was part of a case. 'That bastard!' she thought.

"Sherlock!" she growled under her breath.

His eyes snapped away from the mirror and looked over her face for a clue as to why her temperament had changed so drastically. "Yes, what's wrong?"

"You're on a bloody case aren't you?"

"Molly…I…"

"No, Sherlock." She pushed the rest of her food to a side and closed her knife and fork. She had been brought up in a house where only when you had done that could you excuse yourself from the table. Her mother was always strict when it came to table manners. "I can't believe you. How could you do this? I know it's nothing special between us, but for god's sake Sherlock why tonight?"

"Molly, it is the only time I can do it. Plus don't you think it would look a bit odd if it was me and John having an intermit dinner for two in a restaurant?" Molly raised one of her elegant eyebrows at this but said nothing for the moment. "Especially on the exact night that the suspect was dinning here?"

"Well you could have posed as a waiter again." She smirked.

'Forgiven?' he thought. "Oh, John told you about that?"

"No."

"Sorry?"

"It was Mary. When she told me I wasn't surprised." Her eyes seemed to once again shine with happiness.

"Really and whys that?"

"Sherlock, I've known you for eight years. You're a drama queen. I noticed that the very first time I met you." Sherlock's eyebrow arched up in surprise and amusement. He gave a little cough and Molly gave in. "Yes okay I wasn't to bothered about your personality when we first met. I was more bothered about….."

"My backside." He added casually.

She couldn't not giggle at his little statement. Any other time she would be embarrassed, but when it was just the two of them she was more herself. Or at least she had become more herself around him after that night of plotting and planning before the fall. "…I was going to say who the hell you were and why you were in my Lab. Actually."

"That may have been what you were going to say tonight, but it wasn't what you were thinking when we met." Holmes sipped at his wine with a smirk on his face.

"Smug git. But all this doesn't mean that I'm still pissed off with you Holmes."

"I know. But will you help me?"

"For a genius you can be pretty think sometimes." She shuck her head a little in wonder at how he had missed it. She could see he still didn't understand so Molly reiterated. "If I wasn't going to help you I would have left as soon as I found out. I would have said a thing I would have just left. Maybe knock your wine onto you for good measure, but I wouldn't have said a thing."

"Ah."

"Yes you idiot…..So are you going to tell me what's going on or are you going to the whole I'm Sherlock Holmes so only I can know thing?"

"Stop reading John's blog Molly."

"Why?"

"It's annoying the things he puts on there even though he's married. The wording is terrible and your starting to speck how he writes." He gave her a look that a fed up child gives their mother after they've been forced to go shopping.

Molly just laughed and told him that she would think about it. They continued the night like nothing was said. Though Sherlock did continue to look in the mirror every ten minutes, but Molly didn't mind so much now she knew what was going on.

…..

Two weeks had passed since Sherlock had taken Molly to dinner. That he was on that night still hadn't been solved it was beginning to annoy him. He needed more information on the couple that were sat behind him that night. He had found out that they had been working for Moriarty at one point in the last three years. If Moriarty was back he needed to know how close these two were with him and find out, if he could, what Moriarty wanted.

He hated having to ask his brother for favours for multiple reasons, one being that Mycroft would not let him hear the end of it if it was to do with a case, but this time he 'needed' his annoying big brother's help.

…..

"Hello, brother dear."

"What do you want now?"

"Now, now do I have to have a reason to phone my big brother?"

"Sherlock I'm busy."

"Your work out can wait Mycroft. I need you to put my name and Molly's on your friend's guest list."

"Molly?"

"Mycroft."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Yeah do you want to go? You don't like parties. You don't like people."

"Case." Sherlock could hear his brother sigh at the other end of the phone. "Mycroft."

The other Holmes knew what his younger brother was up to. He was right about Lord Summerfield. But at a time like this Mycroft could not afford for information to be leaked about the government and its relationship with the case on Moriarty. "Sherlock for goodness sake. If anything goes wrong I can't help you." 'Oh here it comes.' But the snide comment about sentiment never came not this time.

"Are you doing it?"

"Give me a minute. I'll email Anthea the…"

"Have you done it yet?"

"Done…done what?"

Sherlock chuckled loudly at his brother's innocent confusion. Or not so innocent depending on how you look at it. "Does your 'Goldfish' know about the party list?"

"Drop the subject Sherlock. Now!"

"Fine, but will you hurry up some of us have murderers it catch." He hung up and sat laughing in his chair. Mycroft was so easy to windup.

…..

Another few days passed by as plans were made on how to get both Miss Hooper and himself into Lord Summerfield's house party. And once he was happy with everything Holmes set the wheels in motion.

Molly – SH

? – Molly x

Fancy helping me again? – SH

I'm always helping you. :) – Molly x

With the case I told you about…. – SH

You're still on that? – Molly x

I thought you said it was Moriarty? – Molly x

Yes. But it's not completely rapped up yet. – SH

What do you want me to do? – Molly x

I need you to come to Baker Street. – SH

….

"SHERLOCK!"

"Kitchen."

"So what do you need?"

"Will you marry me?" Sherlock asked casually over his microscope as he analysed a piece of inner lining from the victim's jacket pocket.

"WHAT!" Molly couldn't believe what she was hearing. Did Sherlock Holmes really just purpose to her?

"Will you marry me? Or will it be long term partners? Mycroft wants to know."

"What?"

"Ah. I did tell you about the party?"

"Nope." Molly dumped her bag under the table as she often did and pulled out one of the chairs to sit on.

"I could have sworn I text you? Oh… it might have been Mycroft."

"Great Sherlock. You're comparing me to your brother. Thanks."

"Hmmm? What? Oh never mind that. You said you wanted to help, so I managed to get our names on the list…."

"Let me guess….the same couple that where sat behind us are hosting a party or are going to one and you think Moriarty may be there?" Molly rolled her eyes and sighed at him.

"Too much of a good opportunity."

"So we're getting married then?"

"Engaged. Yes."

"Sorry?!" John had the most comic timing. The things that must have been going through his mind in that moment. Molly wished that she could see his thoughts in little bubbles around his head.

"Oh, hello John. Cup of tea?"

"What's going on? You're getting married?"

Molly smiled as she knew what was coming next. 'Bad move John.'

"Ah there you are you just answered your own question."

"What I don't understand."

'T-shirt.' Sherlock thought.

"Yes, John we are getting married. Well getting engaged anyway."

"Sorry what?"

Molly sighed and put the kettle on. John watched her every movement closely. He began to imagine things about the pair and their 'friendship.' Whereas Sherlock was simply figuring out what style of text would suit John's new piece of clothing.

It took the pair about half an hour to explain to their kind-hearted, but slow minded friend what was going on. John still didn't fully understand it, but it sounded legit so he went along with it. That night when he told Mary about the whole thing it still sounded strange saying "so Sherlock and Molly are getting married."

….

The night came and Molly once again looked stunning. She was nervous at wearing the dress she had worn to that awful Christmas party, but Sherlock seemed to like it this time. As they got into the taxi Molly asked, "So what I'm having to call you?"

"Sorry?"

"Well can't turn up as Sherlock Holmes. Mycroft wouldn't let you." It was true. Mycroft wanted nothing to do with this. He didn't want his name implied in anyway. "So come on then."

"Tim."

"Tim!" Molly couldn't help but laugh. She knew Mycroft wouldn't let Sherlock get away with something normal so it was most likely to be 'Timothy."

"Shut up Molly." He looked at her. She could be so annoying.

"So I'm still Molly? Thank god for that." she was still giggling slightly as the car turned the corner of the drive. "My god! Look at this place Sherlock. It's beautiful. What I would give to have a place like this."

"I've seen better."

"Of cause YOU have." She said stepping out of the cab with one hand on the handle and her other in his hand.


	6. Chapter 6 Surprise!

**I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY! **

Comments are welcomed...

Chapter Six: Surprise!

"Do you see him?" Molly whispered and both she and Sherlock walked into the other sitting room. It was twice as full as the other and three times as full as the hallway. Its decoration was just as stunning as all the other rooms she had seen the gold leaf picture frames and mirrors were gorgeous. It was more like a small palace than a house with its hundreds of antiques and crystal glass everywhere.

"No. Do you?"

"No." the pair casually moved round the room. Sherlock got talking to people and so did she. It was a shame that she had to distance herself from them all. The ones that she had chatted with were really nice.

"And this is where all your money goes Molly." He whispered to her as they went into yet another room.

"My money?"

"The tax payers."

"And you don't?"

"Don't what?"

"Pay tax?"

"Sometimes."

"I should have known." Molly turned to him.

He hummed "Yes, Molly you should."

"It's just like I've been pluck up and put into one of Gatsby's parties." Molly took another look around the room.

"This isn't long island Molly, but I…" Sherlock was stopped half way through his sentence.

"That's Irene Adler isn't it? That's the Woman."

"What?!" 'What the hell is she doing here?'

"There. Look. Near the door in the red dress." Molly turned back so Sherlock could look. If they both looked it would seem odd.

Sherlock looked at Molly and then for Irene and back to Molly again. "Molly look at me." She did. His cheeky smirk had gone and serious coldness had replaced it. "Do not listen to a word she says. Not one." Molly only nodded.

Sure enough the Woman did walk over. And she did it with all the grace and beauty that she did everything with. Her voice ran like silk through both their ears as she said "Hello." Irene only had eyes for Sherlock and didn't even see Molly until he mentioned her.

"Ohhh." She looked Molly up and down. There was nothing to the girl.

"Hello."

"Molly? Oh you're his little pathologist aren't you?"

Molly laugh at Adler's attempt to embarrass her. "You could say that, though he is my pain in the arse too."

"Thanks."

"No problem. I'm going to get a drink, would you like one Irene?"

"I'm fine." As Molly walked away Irene watched her. However she notice Sherlock watching too with a big smirk on his face. "You are a dark horse aren't you. You and that mouse. I bet she's really great full each time." Irene had that look in her eye. She was looking for a fight.

"Jealous."

"If you want me to be…"

"I wasn't asking you Irene. I was pointing it out. You're jealous of Molly." Sherlock took another sip from his glass as he waited for her to speck. Irene could be slow at times, but this pause suggested that he was right. The 'Dominatrix' was jealous. 'This should be fun.'

"Me? Jealous? Of that?" Irene pointed in the direction of Molly who was now slowly making her way back towards them. "Why would I be jealous of that?"

"You are though. Admit it."

"No I will not! I will never be jealous of her." Molly now stud new to the pair. Sherlock throw a glance at Molly every so often to check on her as Irene continued her little rant. Irene never did know when to stop. "Sherlock." Irene said far more calmly than how she had been going on before. "The girl is engaged. And clearly loves you. You have to stop leading that little girl on. A mouse like her should be left alone to live her life with whichever ugly-faced weakling she has chosen to spend it with."

'You bitch!' Molly had been called mousy many times. She had been putting up with Sherlock's comments on her boyfriends for years, but this woman had no right to mention any of it. "Uhmm excuse me?!" She had had enough.

"You're still here? My god you must either be dumb or…" *SLAP!* Irene felt a stinging feeling run across her left cheek.

"How dare you speck about me like that. You and I have never meet before, save tonight, what makes you think that you can make any judgement on?!" Molly couldn't careless now if people could hear or were watching. In fact she hoped they were.

"Okay, not a mouse, a kitten."

Molly growled at her. 'This woman is unbelievable.' "Just one more word that isn't sorry and I will knock your block off."

Sherlock's eye widened and his mouth fell open slightly. Did he just imagine what Molly just said? Little Molly, his Molly couldn't be capable of that let alone the action. 'God I sound like her now!' his eyes didn't move from watching Molly when Irene told him to control his pet.

"Kittens have claws."

"What?"

It was just as well really that way her managed to see the full range of emotions that Molly went through just before she punched Irene square in the nose. It happened so quickly. One minute all was fine the next there was a ruckus of people. Men surrounded Irene offering her napkins and giving Molly looks of discussed. There were women looking at the two of them and pointing out what happened to the others who hadn't been in the room. The hostess was running around with a bottle of vanish, hoping that her carpet wouldn't be stained, clearly not caring about either of the two.

Molly picked up her things and walked out with Sherlock fallowing close behind her. However she was stopped at the door by an elderly woman in a light pink dress. "Well done sweetheart. She had that coming. But I must say I am disappointed that I didn't get the chance myself." The woman let go of Molly's wrist and smiled. She clearly knew that she felt terrible about it already.

The two walked out of the house and headed to get a cab. On the way back she turned to Sherlock after a long time of silence. "Sherlock, I'm sorry if I ruined your case lead, but that bloody woman went too far." Stated Molly. She didn't full look at him. She couldn't bear to see what his face would look like. The shock and discussed it would show.

"She deserved it."

"Really?" Molly was so unsure on how to act.

"Yes." There was a few more moments of silence before Molly lifted her head from looking at her bruised hand. He was laugh to himself.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Hmm or just 'kittens have claws'." They looked at each other and both laughed together.

"Oh god did. I really say that?"

"Yes. Te-tell me jus-t where did you learn to hit like that?"

"After Jim. Moriarty. I didn't feel safe so I started going to self-defence classes with a friend. Their actually pretty fun." She said, she was so happy she was forgiven and rather pleased that she had fought back for once.

"The friend or the class?"

"Both." She giggled.

…

The taxi pulls up outside of Molly's block of flats and Sherlock walks her up in spite of her telling him she would be fine. Molly opens her flat door and steps in.

"Goodnight Molly."

"Night Sherlock….Oh Sherlock." He turns around to face her again.

"Yes?"

"You do realise that I will not be able to make coffee for a good two weeks or so, don't you?"

Chuckling, he stepped towards her. He lent down and kissed her on the cheek. He had found himself doing that more often these days and had no idea why. But it felt right. "It appears you'll do anything to get out of making me coffee."

"That's my line." Molly's reply was entangled with her giggles, but it was clear enough for him to understand. They both laughed and then he said his goodbyes again. Leaving Molly to tape her knuckles and relax, or at least try to.

….

Sherlock spent the rest of that night in his mind palace. He found himself heading to the room that Molly had claimed. But as he went to unlock it, to his surprise it was already open. 'Another thing that will upset her majesty next door Molly.' It would seem that The Woman was not the only one who messed with his head.

There Molly sat on one of the cream shaselongs with an air of royalty to her. She was wearing the blue dress that he had bought her. Though this time it had grown in length and was now draped across her tucked-up legs. There is no tape on her hand it seems perfectly fine. He goes to sit beside her. All the lights are off and the only light he has to see with is the glow of the roaring flames from the fireplace.

While he knows the door is shut he keeps looking over to check it and is glad every time he sees it is still firmly shut. Molly gently cups his right cheek and slowly he turns to face her once again. For the first time in the whole of his visit to her room she specks.

"The door is locked. No one will come in." but just as she says that in waltzes Toby through the cat flap. Wherever that had come from. Molly laughs at her ginger tomcat's comic timing. Sherlock had always liked her laugh.

He opened his mouth to speck. "SHERLOCK!" Molly shouted and Toby jumped off her lap. "SHERLOCK!"

*SLAP!*

…..

"Sherlock for god's sake wake up!"

"Wh-what's going on? Molly Why did you slap me? And why are you in my bedroom?"

"I'm sorry Sherlock, but I need you to get up and get dressed." He looked confused as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Molly tipped the contents of the plastic bag that she held onto his bed. Multiple gossip magazines and a couple of newspapers fell out. She walked out not saying another word to him.

Holmes lent forward and picked one of the papers up. He sat straight up when he saw its headline.

"FAMOUS DETECTIVE ENGAGED."

….

When Sherlock finally appeared from his bedroom fully dress in his tight black suit and matching shirt as if he were in morning for someone. He seemed to be a more than a little confused and certainly more than a little angry. It was while in this state that he began to read one of the articles out load, something that he would not have done, however he had failed to notice that it was not just Molly that sat in his living room and so he continued.

"BOFFIN, Sherlock Holmes… Why is it always 'Boffin'?! …and DR Molly Hooper were spotted last night attending a well know officials drinks party hand in hand… Where the hell did they get that picture from?! There were no bloody cameras?! …A friend of the pair confirmed to us that the famous detective and friend where in fact a couple, saying 'She had always been his favourite pathologist.' The friend then goes on to say that they found it rather funny as they had always thought that women were not his type, especially after his ex-flatmate and their 'close' relationship.' …Oh for GOD'S SAKE!" That was it Sherlock throw the paper onto the table and went to sit in his chair, only to find Mycroft already there.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

"The same reason we are Sherlock." Piped up John, who was stud close to Greg. The pair had smirks on their faces. They clearly weren't taking this seriously. Mary on the other hand was as she sat by a distraught Molly and holding her.

He sighed. "I am sorry Molly."

"No." She lifted her head up. "I was the one who caused this. And here's the evidence." Molly held up her taped up hand tentatively.

"You think this was Irene Adler then? The one how gave the story to the press?" Asked John. It was amazing. The man would always find something obvious to say about anything and everything.

"Sherlock."

"Yes, Molly?"

"We were there looking for Moriarty. I know he wasn't there, but what if he is back? What if Irene tells him? What if he reads about it? He'll kill me! He hates you, but if he sees this he'll ha-have a-a-a way to-…" the doctor broke into tears at the thought of what might happen to her. Mary immediately brought her close.

Sherlock looked as white as a sheet. He really hadn't thought about Jim Moriarty in that way. Moriarty had underestimated Molly before, but maybe she was right. This time could be different what with 'their story' in papers maybe he would use her against him. With Moriarty there was no telling.

"Do not worry Miss Hooper we will have something sorted out for you by the end of the day." Mycroft stated as coldly and precisely as always. Mycroft did not do sentiment. In fact he made Sherlock look like a little boy that gets attached to everything. And he would often remind him of 'Red-beard'.

"What?"

"But for now Miss Hooper I believe you will be safer here. I will have somewhere arranged for you and your things, including your cat." He was not completely sure about Sherlock's feelings for her, but Molly was truly an asset to him. Her work was the finest her had seen and he had great respect for her on that account. "I'll take my leave."

"Thank you. Mycroft." He did not answer. He only nodded and left. She looked again at Sherlock who now had slightly more colour to him. 'What is he thinking of?' she wondered 'He clearly isn't in the room with us. What is he thinking about?'


	7. Chapter 7 Tom

**I don't own any of the characters in this story. next chapter has all the things you want from M rated ;)**

Chapter Seven: Tom?!

Evening was beginning to set in and the car that was meant to pick Molly up still had not arrived. Sherlock was sat in his chair and had not spoken for hours. John had told her he may do that. But Molly had already got used to him doing that when he stayed with her for that sweet short while after the fall. So in silence she sat huddled in John's old chair reading one of Sherlock's copious amounts of books.

The sound of Mrs Hudson shouting Sherlock's name as she came up the stairs pulled Molly from her reading. Mrs Hudson tried her tenants name again, but it was no use. He was clearly deep into his mind palace, too deep to hear his land lady. There again he had once told her that he had selective hearing when it came to Mrs Hudson. Molly throw the cushion that she was cuddling at him. It hit him square in the face bringing him back into the land of the living.

"Mrs Hudson is trying to talk to you. Don't be so rude." Molly winked at him.

"What now Mrs Hudson?"

"Tom."

"What?" Molly closed her book, losing her page.

"John has just called. Tom had gone round to your flat Molly. When he saw you weren't there he went to find John. He has scared Mary and the little one half to death from the mood he is in. And now he is most likely heading over here."

Sherlock glanced towards Molly. He could see a slight wetness gathering in her eyes. Mrs Hudson also looked. "Oh, dearie. I'll make you a cup of tea. Calm your nerves." The land Lady left to make tea downstairs.

"Molly." Sherlock stud and walked over to her. "Don't worry."

"How can I not worry Sherlock? I told you this would happen. He has such a temper." Two tears began to fall from her eyes and then another and another until she was weeping into Sherlock's arms.

He could see that she was exhausted from today and needed sleep. He sent her to his room for the night. What was the point of sending her upstairs to sleep in a freezing cold room when his was not going to be used tonight?

….

When Tom did arrive Molly was fast asleep. Sherlock does not look up from his laptop when Tom tries to speak to him. And the only words he says in reply to his questions was a warning on not to wake Molly.

"I'm not here to speak to you. I'm here to Speck to Molly." He says as he turns to walk upstairs.

"She's not up there."

"What?"

"She's in my room." He sighed and stood. Holmes walked over to the younger man. "And I said don't wake her."

"Fine. You tell me. How long have you and Molly been sleeping with each other?"

"We aren't." Sherlock's manor was very lax which annoyed the other greatly.

"What do you mean you aren't? It's in all of the papers. She's been spotted wearing a ring and she's sleeping in your bloody bed!"

"Spotted once and that was on a case."

"But why is she sleeping in your bed?"

"Because she was terrified of what you would do when you found out about all this. So she came to me. She has spent most of the last two hours before you came crying about this mess and how you were on your way. She was exhausted. I was not going to send her up to a cool room when the one down here is far warmer and will not be in use tonight." Holmes had had enough of Tom. "Now can you see why I want you not to wake her?!" this last sentence was throw gritted teeth.

Tom was her ex and had been for months. What was it to him if they were in a relationship or not. It was no longer any of his concern.

…

At five o'clock the next morning the black car pulled up outside the Baker Street flat. A tale brunette gets out of the stairs. Sherlock headed to his room to wake the slumbering Molly. As he looked down upon her he could not shake the thought of her as an 'angle-like goddess.' Her hair was splayed across both of the pillows as she lay in the middle of the bed. Her small lips slightly parted, the sheet that covered her rose and fell with her chest as she breathed softly.

"Molly." He nudged her begrudgingly. She needed more sleep it had been rather late when she went to bed, there again he supposed she would have time to sleep in the new flat. "Molly." At last he manages to wake her at last. It is as she slowly comes round from her sleep that he notices that during the night she had taken off the pyjamas off that Mrs Hudson had lent her. And as she turned to face him he caught a glimpse of her creamy breast that had been uncovered slightly. She is too tired to notice such a thing.

"Time to get up Molly. The car is here for you." He said with a smile.

"Hmmm…I thought it was coming last night?"

"Apparently it got delayed for some reason or other. Anthea has brought you some of your clothes for you. I'll see you in a little while." He placed the pile of neatly folded cloths at the end of the bed and closed the door behind him.

Molly blushed at the thought of Sherlock seeing her white and gold lace bra that was inconveniently placed at the top of the pile. She turned to look at the bedside clock. "Five o'clock! You have to be kidding me?!" She hated getting up early on an average day. But a day like today, all she wanted to do was sleep.

Sherlock's guest threw off her sheets and rolled herself out of his bed. It was early, but once she was up she was up and there would be no way she would be able to get back to sleep again now. At least she had her own clothes to wear and didn't had to borrow any.

"Molly?" Sherlock knocked at the door. "Are you ready yet? We have to go."

"I'll be there in a minute."

"You said that ten minutes ago."

"Shut up Sherlock."

At last when she was finally ready Molly followed a slightly grumpy Sherlock Holmes down stairs to the car that had been waiting for her. Anthea looked up from her phone a moment.

"Miss Hooper, I have been told to tell you that your cat is fine and in the flat. Though off record if I don't get you there I don't think you'll have one anymore."

"What!"

"My brother hates cats even more than I do dogs."

"Oh." Molly got in the car after the tall woman. "Wait. He wouldn't would he?"

"Of cause not Miss Hooper. Not when his brother…"

"Oh don't started Anthea."

"Of cause Mr Holmes." The girl looked back at her phone and continued typing.

Molly whispered to Sherlock about Anthea. "Who is she?"

"Mycroft's secret Goldfish." He smirked and Molly tried not to laugh.

"Really?"

"Yes, Look at her Molly. Really look at her. What do you see?"

"Tall, brunette, brown eyes, smart?"

"No. Look at her. You saw it the second you stepped out of the door. You and Mrs Hudson are fantastic at it."

"At what?" Molly was utterly confused now.

"She is him. You and my land lady make judgements on people all the time. Often you're quite right even though you have no prove when asked to explain it. You saw she was smart, lacking in a social life, but doesn't miss it. Most likely an elder sibling. And of cause she is utterly at his disposal. My brother is power mad trust me. If he isn't the one in charge he throws a paddy."

This time Molly did giggle when Sherlock rolled his eyes. "So she is his Goldfish? I thought he liked...well I didn't think he?"

"Neither did I until I caught them."

"What?" Molly exclaimed. She hadn't shouted but at the level that they had been specking at it sounded as if she had. "Really?"

"Yep. And no I'm not saying anymore. It took me long enough to get those Horrible images out of my mind the first time." He loved her giggle. He loved the way she would bring her shoulders up and duck her head slightly. Did she know she was doing it? Trying to be cute maybe? He hated to admit it, but if she was it was working.

…..

Ten minutes later they pulled up outside of the flat that would now be her's for however long it took. It was far larger than her old one and far more expensive. "Wow."

"Meh."

"To you too."

"Come on before Mycroft decides to test the truth about cats always landing on their feet."

"Ha, if he did that there would be no way of getting away with it. None of his 'lackeys' could stop me."

"You really love that cat don't you?" The younger Holmes stated as they walked up the last flight of stairs to her flat.

"How anyone can like cats I will never know." Echoed a deep voice from in front of them. Mycroft stepped out from behind the slightly open door.

"Oh, brother dear. It is such a shame you hate cats. You would make a great bond villain. Go on say it."

"Shut up Sherlock." He sighed and looked passed his annoying little brother. "You're late Miss Hooper. I was expecting you…"

"Well that's close-enough."

The other brother growled. "Miss Hooper would you like to follow me?" said Anthea in a whisper from behind. "It looks like these two will be here for a bit."

"Oh thank you."

…

"I hope everything is okay for you Miss Hooper." Said Anthea as they came back to the living room. The flat was far bigger than she needed. It had two bedrooms, a large bathroom a good size kitchen and even an utility room. Anthea picked up Toby who was rubbing up her legs.

"Its perfect thank you. He seems to like you." Molly nodded towards the cat.

"He's beautiful. I love cats. Though my other half doesn't."

"I haven't met many men who do like cats." Both girls giggled. Anthea was rather nice. And easier to talk to than she had first thought.

"Well I should go. If there is anything you need Miss Hooper…"

"Molly."

"Molly." She smiled "if there is anything you should need Molly just ring this number. It's my direct line."

"Oh thank you."

"There would be no point in giving you any other, it seems like I'm the only one that does their job these days." Again Molly thanked her as both her and her 'boss' left. Sherlock also gave his goodbyes and left Molly alone to get use to the new place.


	8. Chapter 8 Did you miss me?

**I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTER IN THIS STORY. **

Chapter Eight: Did you miss me?

Her name fell from his lips over and over again as he kiss his way down and up her body. Oh she was beautiful truly wonderful. He had once thought her breasts where small, but now as he cups one in his left hand and sucked on the hard nipple of the other he saw them differently. They were made to fit perfectly in his hands just as they did and just like the rest of her body. Again she pulled at his hair, scratching her nails over his scalp. Every touch, every kiss she placed on him made is whole body burn. Those torturous touches that made him shiver. God how he love this small creature that sighs and moans with pleasure at his ministrations.

Sherlock turned on the shower, not bothering to wait for it to warm he stepped in. Holmes pushed his soaking and limp curls back over his head. The dreams had been acquiring more often and each one was more painfully pleasurable than the last. He wanted her more than ever. The image of her laying naked in his bed the day she left for the safe house, wouldn't leave his mine.

….

Molly awoke in a daze. She could have sworn she heard Holme' voice saying her name. But now as she sat wide awake there was no sound but Toby's mewing. She was glad that today was the last day of her supposed illness. It wasn't the most impressive excuse, but it was the most believable.

"Well come on Toby. Let's make the most of all this free food for you and I'll make the most of that lovely power shower. Eh?"

Meow.

"Okay then." Molly pulled back the covers and walked across the room to where her light linen dressing gown was laid across a chair. She raped it around her naked body. She had always hated sleeping with pyjamas on.

Toby purred contently as he saw his mistress going into the cupboard for his packet of food. At home he never go the brand wet food. She couldn't afford it. It was always the supermarket value stuff.

"Here you go baby. Right Mummy is going to have a shower."

….

Sherlock dropped his towel and walked across the room towards his wardrobe. Eight years he had been able to stay detached from all feelings involving lust or love towards anyone. Eight whole years he had been able to resist Molly's sweet smile and giggles. This woman who made jokes that weren't funny, that had an often terribly childish style in clothing, and who had a bad taste in men had stolen his heart. Something that even the woman couldn't do.

"What the hell are you doing Holmes?! Molly went because of the danger your fake relationship put her in and now you want to put her in danger again!" he said out load to himself. That was one advantage of John not living at Baker Street anymore. He could speak out load and not have to worry about someone hearing. The other advantage would be how easy it would be to shag Molly without worrying about noise.

Sherlock smirked at this thought 'Oh how easy it would be.'

…

The soap suds from Molly's hair ran over her small frame as she washed her hair. She ran her hand over her scalp three or four times. There, to her, was nothing better than the feeling of a hot shower on an icy cold morning. She loved the feeling of the powerful patter of the shower water beating against her breasts, collar bones and face. Far better than any massage.

It was only when the water began to run cold did Molly get out. Looking at the time she had been in there for at least an hour and a half. Her finger tips where certainly wrinkled. And the whole of the bath room was filled with hot steam.

Molly walked over to the large central that hung about the fireplace in the living room. Her face was still slightly pink from her shower and her hair lay softly over her shoulders. She grabbed the last of her things from that room and then began to check the others from the third time. Toby watched his mistress very carefully. There was no way he was going back into that cage again. Not a chance.

Miss Hooper I have sent the car for you. I will be with you in exactly thirty-five minutes (traffic permitting) – Mycroft Holmes

Thank you Mycroft – Molly

She would usually put a kiss at the end of her text but Mycroft Holmes didn't seem the type to appreciate that sort of thing. Molly looked at the cat "You're not going to make this easy are you Toby." Molly said titling her head at the ginger tabby cat who was wagging his tale as he sat on the cream fabric sofa.

…..

The car pulled up exactly thirty-five minutes later just as Mycroft had said. There was a knock at the door as Molly finished with her struggle of putting a very grumpy Toby in his cat cage. Molly headed towards the door. She was just about to open it when something told her not to. She had never really used the eye hole in doors before but today she was rather glad of it.

As she peered through she spotted young slender man with short black hair. He turned to face the door after looking down the steps. And gave a smile that can only be described as reptilian. Moriarty. Her heart stopped and a lump in her throat almost choked her.

He just stood there. It was only him? No trained killers? No bombers? No Hench men?! Just him. He had only knocked the once. Moriarty clearly knew she was watching him, too terrified to look away.

From his coat pocket he pulled out a few white cards. Rectangle in shape and just less than A5. He held each one up in turn so she could read the short sentences that were written on each one. Before throwing them haphazardly over his right shoulder.

Did you miss me Molly? – said the first card.

Tell the Ice man to stop been so predictably idiotic… - said the next.

I can find anyone. Anywhere. – said the last.

Molly watched in terror, confusion, frustration as the dead man walked away from her door with a wink. Her eyes began to fill with tears as soon as he left. It was if her body was determined not to show any emotion towards him even though he could not see her. Like the wet salty liquid that ran from her eyes Molly slid down the flat door into a weeping ball. 'If only the car had come earlier.' She repeatedly thought and muttered under her breath.

When the car finally did come it was an hour since he had left. Though she did want to. And no matter how hard she tried to persuade herself not to, that she was stronger than that. As soon as Anthea walked through the door with her ever present phone in her left hand Molly couldn't help but run to her. And though taken by surprise the young woman immediately rapped her arms around the other. Anthea did not ask what was wrong with Molly, well not until she had stopped sobbing and apologizing to her. By which time Mycroft had come up to see what was wrong.

"Anthea?" said the elder Holmes as he looked towards her, then to Molly, then back to her again. "What's going on?"

"Sir." Anthea squeezed the pathologist's hand and stood. "It would appear that Molly… sorry Miss Hooper has had a visit from Moriarty, sir." She handed him all three cards that she had picked up from outside the flat.

"What?!"

"These were scattered outside the flat sir. Molly said that he had held them up to the eye hole for her to see. And then left sir." Anthea failed to correct herself.

"I see and did MISS Hooper say if he did anything else?"

"No, Sir. He did do anything else."

"Fine. Get her back to her flat…"

"But…Sir…"

"As Moriarty has been kind enough to point out he knew she was here. He knows she will be there. He knows where she works…" Molly began to lesion in of Mycroft's and Anthea's conversation. "He knows she will most likely be seeing my brother soon. I hate it, Anthea. I hate it, but with must play along." He turned and walked out not even saying a word to Molly who was still quietly sobbing on the corner sofa.

"Yes…Sir." Anthea hung her head. She too hated times like this, for he would never really acknowledge her verbally unless it was on the phone. And even then it would only be a few moments.

….

Sherlock's phone began to buzz in his trouser pocket. He ignored it for a moment or two with the feeling that it might be his brother. The call ended. For a few moments the only noises in the Baker Street house were the sound of Mrs Hudson hovering downstairs and the pages of a newspaper been turned by john in the living room. Mary had gone to stay with her parents for a little while apparently. But then the device began too buzz again.

Sherlock let out a dramatic sigh. "No, Sherlock." Replied John before his friend could say a word. "I'm not getting your phone out of your trouser pocket for you."

"But th-…"

"No. I'm already in trouble with Mary as it is."

"How would you getting my phone for me be adding to your marital troubles?"

"People talk."

"People do little else John." The phone stopped ringing again.

Tell my brother to pick up his phone John. It's important. – Mycroft Holmes.

John gowned "Sherlock he's texting me now. He doesn't even have my number. Just pick up your phone."

"Why?" Sherlock replied nonchalantly.

"Just pick it up." His friend didn't move a muscle. He just kept steering down the lenses of his microscope. "SHERLOCK!"

"Fine." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the once again buzzing phone. "What?! I'm busy?!"

"I'm sending Molly to her old flat. Moriarty visited her two hours ago…"

"What! And you only just told me. FOR GOD'S SAKE Mycroft!"

"Sherlock…"

"Why are you taking her to her old flat you should take her somewhere save?!"

"He made it quite clear that he can find her or anyone anywhere and I have that in bloody writing Sherlock. So you can get off that bastard high horse of yours!" hissed Mycroft down the receiver.

"Me on a high horse?! You need to look in the mirror!"

"Stop being a child. Molly is on code red surveillance protection. I have people living in flats 21, 23, and in the houses across the road. You may have your 'homeless network' watching her to. I need their names." He was given no answer from his little brother.

John turned round to see his flat mate had pushed the science equipment out of his way and was covering his eyes with one hand and the other holding the phone loosely to his ear. Both of his elbows rested on the table work top. John stopped that he was shacking as the material of his shirt slipped here and there against the other surface.

Sherlock's friend did not open his mouth. He had only ever seen Holmes like this once before and that was after he had supposedly seen the hound of Baskerville. John watched as Holmes ended the call and leave without a word. John heard the front door slam shut.

…..

The wind was a lot cooler than Holmes has first thought and he shivered as he walked to her flat without his heavy Belstaf coat on. Today was meant to be the day. He was going to the lab under the pretences of needing more samples for a case. He make sure to catch her as she goes for lunch and as soon as they we're her office he would have her. How perfect it would be for their first time with each other to be in the lab where they met. Sherlock had dreamed how he would take her, where he would take her and how many times he would have her before he would let her sleep. He had planned everything. But now all that was gone.

As he neared her flat he noticed that all the curtains where closed. He sighed 'a clear sign of felling threatened.'

He knock rhythmically on the sky blue door. "Molly?" but she gave no answer. "Molly?" he would have thought she was asleep if it was not for the muffled scream she gave. "Molly its Sherlock can you let me in? It's just me Molly."

She looked up from where her head was laid in the nook of the sofa arm. Another knock came, but this time it was at her window. Molly saw Sherlock's tall shadow case on her curtains by the street lamps outside.

After a few moments Sherlock the door's Yael lock been clicked open and a tear stained face poke around the edge of the door. There was a moments silence before Sherlock stepped into her small flat. He shut the door gently and locked it again.

"You look tiered." Holmes cursed himself for pointing out something so obvious.

"Yes…well…I…"

"Have you eaten?"

"Uhmm no I don't really want anything…"

"You need to eat Molly" he said as he walked into the small kitchen opposite.

"Sherlock I'm not hungry." She said following him. But he wasn't having any of it. He turned to her. Put both of his large hands on the top of her arms.

"Molly, please. Just a slice of toast you have to eat."

"How do you know I haven't already had something and washed up." He just looked at her with a sad smile. She sighed. "Just one though, I really aren't hungry."

"Fine. Now go sit down in there." He pointed to the sofa. "I'll bring it over."

Toby looked up at Holmes. "You haven't eaten either mate?" the cat mewed. Toby was a funny one he really was. One minute he was all over him the next he would want nothing to do with him. Holmes feed the cat and made Molly a cup of milky tea to go with her toast. And headed into the living area again.

He set the things down on the table and took off his suit jacket. "How can you stand it in here its freezing?"

"You're the one taking his jacket off." She sipped her tea. She didn't know why but he seemed to bring the sarcastic side out in her, but at the moment sarcastic was better than miserable.

"Yes but I'm putting the fire on."

"Good luck with that." Sherlock hummed. "That thing is a pain in the arse to get going." And just like that it started. He had only pushed the button twice. It took her at least six attempts to start it the last time she tried.

"You were saying?"

"Oh shut up."

"Nice way to thank me for making your supper. And making it warm." He winked and gave a sad smile. He sat next to her and took a bite out of the toast that she had just put down.

"Oi!"

"You said you weren't hungry." At last a little giggle. Only a small one and only for a couple of seconds but it was a start. They sat there for the next few hours talking about anything everything. The T.V. occasionally stopping they conversation when one of Molly's favourite food programs came on. But after a while the pathologist feel asleep. Her head resting on his shoulder. Sherlock lifted his arm and placed it around her. Just like he had done so many times in his dreams. Her hand came up to rest on his chest and he covered it with his own.

…

Another few hours past and the ten o'clock news came on with its breaking news headline:

MORIARTY BACK FROM THE DEAD!

"The criminal James Moriarty was stopped yesterday evening around the Knightsbridge around." Stated one of the BBC's news reporters.

"Shit." As he turned it over. The same story on the next channel, and the channel after that and after that. "998 channels and he's on the lot of them." Molly began to stir from her sleep.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing." Replied Holmes as he quickly turned off the television. "Come on I think you should go to bed." Agreeing with Sherlock with a slow nod Molly walk to her room Sherlock followed with her blanket.

Molly got in not bothering to get undress. "Will you stay?"

"Sorry?"

"Just for tonight?" He should have said no, but after what she had gone through today…how could he?

"Yes, Molly if you want me to." He smiled. "I'll be next door."

"No. Can you stay here?" Sherlock watched as Molly scooted over to the other side. "Please?"

Molly couldn't know how hard this was for him. He wanted to rip Moriarty to shreds. He couldn't get the image of her riving under him out of his mind and now she wanted him to sleep in the same bed as her! "Yes." He kicked of his shoes and laid beside her with all these thought running through his head. And to make things worse Molly, now knowingly, had once again got her head and hand resting on his chest. "God help." He whispered as he pulled her closer to him. "God help."


	9. Chapter 9 Some doors should stay locked

**I OWN NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS.**

**...**

**Okay guys this is the last chapter. I do apologise for the bad spelling and grammar that may have appeared in any of the chapters. So here we go.**

Chapter Nine: Some doors should stay locked.

When Molly woke the next morning she felt odd. There was something wrong and in her sleep induced daze she couldn't put her finger on what it was. That was until the pressure around her stomach moved slightly. She looked down to see a muscular arm raped around her waist. Molly turned her head slightly. And from that odd angle in which she lay she saw the bear torso of Sherlock Holmes laid next to her. His nose was almost nuzzled into the nape of her neck. And his dark curls ruffled and over his face. He looked so cute in that innocent moment.

Molly lifted hand from her so she could get up, but he only pulled her back with a moan. She couldn't help but giggle. Here was Sherlock Holmes latching onto her for whatever reason after staying the night before at her will.

Last night now seemed to be nothing more than a nightmare. But she really had to get up sleeping in all your clothes is never a good idea and she really needed to get her jeans off. They were beginning to rub into her side. Clearly Sherlock had taken off his shirt for a similar reason.

"Maybe I could…" she whispered to herself as she undid her belt under the covers with one hand. Her days off trying to get changed in the girl's group changing room under a towel after swimming came back to her. Molly loved swimming, but she hated the fact they had to share the changing space. It was okay when it was for gym, but being butt naked under a towel hoping to god it doesn't slip was one of the most tedious things in the world. "Okay belt undone. Next button and zip…" She managed to get the first button done, but was stopped by the movement of a certain Consulting Detective who had managed to turn her to face him in his sleep.

Their bodies were now crushed together with her hands uncomfortably close to his crotch. He may have been laying on top of the sheets when she fell asleep, but that was no longer the case. Molly was able to move just enough, without waking Sherlock, to free her hands. But were was she to put them now? There wasn't much room. "Sherlock Holmes you are such a pain." She whispered not intending to hear, but hear her he did.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open and caught her's. "Shit!" he muttered and Molly giggled "Shut up Molly." He said as he let go of her and rolled out of the bed. Molly watched as he put lasts night shirt back on. She watched the way his back and shoulder muscles tensed and flexed as he pulled it on. She was already missing his warmth.

…..

Molly had been at work for seven and a half hours and glad for the lunch break. Crisps can only fill you up for so long. And she was half way down the hall when the doors leading to the corridor that held the stairwell flew open. And throw them strode Sherlock Holmes with his belstaf flowing behind him.

He stops her by putting his arm across her stomach and turns her to head back the other way. His hand falls to her lower back with his long fingers rest slightly on her butt-cheek. Holmes fits hard to hide the large smirk that is threatening to appear on his cupid bow lips. And as they reached the lab doors he pushed her in in front of him making sure to teasingly scrape his fingernails across her lower back making her visibly shiver.

'Not good.' Molly thought to herself. She loved what he was doing to her. Who wouldn't? But for what reason was he doing it? At first she had thought it was accidently, but now she was sadly entertaining the fact that he was doing it on purpose to get something from her. he would often complement her on the way her hair was parted or the shade of lipstick she was wearing to get a foot or a hand, but doing this was a new level of annoying. He knew she loved him. And she had thought they had become better friends now. He probably need a whole body or something.

Molly turned to him. "Sherlock it's my lunch break and I'm hungry. Can't your experiments wait half an hour?" she sighed.

"You're having dinner with me."

"What! No Sherlock!" she saw him quirk an eyebrow. "Look buddy. The last two times. Have heard to say that it has not exactly gone well." Again he said nothing. He didn't get chance. "The most recent of which ended up with Moriarty finding me because of that bitch putting rumours in the press about us. And of cause we shouldn't forget the first time you said that. Remember? It resulted in me spending all night in this bloody lad doing sodding experiments for you!"

"Yes, but I wasn't thinking of that sort of dinner."

"What?!"

Sherlock lent down and kissed the confused pathologist on the pair of lips that had been haunting his dreams. "Now do you understand?"

"Why?"

"Yesterday morning I woke up with you in my arms. I have been dreaming of that for weeks. And yesterday it happened. I give in Molly." He gently rested his forehead on hers and looked her in the eyes. "I give in."

She shut her eyes and let those last three words wash over her. "Sherlock Holmes."

"Yes?"

She kissed him. "You took your bloody time."

"Shut up you" and he kissed her again. His tongue brushing against her lips begging for entry. He had estimated they had about an hour before David came looking for her. That man was just as bad as Tom for been over protective of her. And they weren't even a couple. Their tongues battled for dominance has he lifted Molly up on to one of the counter tops. Holmes ran his hands up and down her thighs before gently parting them.

Molly looked up into his eyes as she pulled away from his passionate kiss. "Here?" she giggle with shock.

"Well it's only right. After all this is where we first met."

"We met in the morgue."

"Same difference" he began to slowly move his hands further up her body and pulled off the heavy white lab coat of her small shoulders. Her hands immediately went for the button that here straining to keep the two sides of the fabric together. She pushed off the three items of clothing that where stopping her from been able to see that gorges torso that she had only had a glimpse of the day before.

So there stood Sherlock Holmes, in-between her thighs in nothing but his unbuckled trousers and strained boxers. Her blouse was in some corner of the lab. "Sherlock you are a bad m…oh!" she throw her hands into his curls as he began to nip and suck a line that ran from just above the left cup of her bra to the right. Making sure to give extra attention to the valley between them. "Sherlock." She pulled him by his hair to face. "Please."

He looked very smug as she raped her legs around his hips. He pushed her skirt up over her hips and lifted her up of the counter. "Because…." he walked over to the door of her office and leant against it. "…you asked…" he turned nob and kicked it open. "…so nicely." He carried her in to the small box room and kicked the door shut.

Molly soon found herself leaning over the table with Sherlock Holmes slowly pulling the zip of her skirt down with his teeth. His splayed fingers massaging the fount of her pelvis. He hooked his fingers into the top rim of her skirt and pulled both it and her underwear down with the same swift moment. She felt completely exposed, but in the most delightful way.

"Please, Sherlock." She couldn't take it any longer. Molly wiggled against the bulge in his boxers.

Holmes sank himself into molly until he could go no further. Both moaned at the feeling of him being inside her. Sherlock began to pump into her. At first he took her slowly but soon something snapped and he started to ride her at an unmerciful pace. Molly's soft sighs and the way she repeated his name like a mantra only made him go faster.

She dug her nails into the desk as the first waves of her orgasm ran over her and Sherlock showed no sign of stopping. 'Stupid Molly.' She thought. 'What did you expect? This man has been torturing you for years why would he make this any different?' But the torturing was good. It was very, very good. The best.

At last, once satisfied that he had Molly was in a total mess did he allow himself to fall apart. He came shouting her name, not caring who heard him. Sherlock pulled out of Molly. He picked her up and sat her on his lap on her chair. He could feel its leather begin to stick to his back and thighs. He broke the sweet silence with her name as he whispered into the ear that wasn't pressed to his chest.

"Molly?" she didn't speck but he knew she had heard him. "Molly. Look at me when I say this." Molly lifted her head slowly and looked into his eyes with her own heavy lidded ones. She was barely awake. "Molly Hooper I…I love…" He sighed. She was gone. Just like that she was asleep.

….

"When I said we might need help with this on guv. Didn't mean Sherlock!" moaned Sally Donavan as she followed her boss into the police car park.

"Well it's too late now." Said Greg smirking at her before he got into the silver BMW.

"I would have…" _Click _she stopped as she fastened her seatbelt. "…thought you would have learned after what happened last time our delightfully enigmatic boss found out we were using Holmes."

"Yeah you would wouldn't you." He winked at her as he reversed the car.

"Unbelievable." Sally giggled. Greg really had changed now that Sherlock was back. She hated to admit it but she was glad to see him now and then. But only 'now and then." She still disliked him. But he made Greg happy and in turn made it things between her and Greg better. How she had managed to get Lestrade to forgive her was a miracle.

"You wouldn't be sleeping with me if I was different."

"Yes boss."

…

Both Molly and Sherlock jumped of the seat at the sound of the lab doors opening. "Mol's?" came a voice from out near the fume cupboard. "Mol's you in here?"

"Oh God its Dave." Whispered Molly as she looked between the gaps in the blinds. "I have lunch with him sometimes."

"It's well passed lunch."

"You don't know Dave do you. He thinks lunch lasts all day. That way he gets to see me. The man is a little creep." Her eyes widened at the sight of Dave beginning to head towards her office. Molly turned and pushed Sherlock to the floor with her landing on top of him.

"Molly I know that people get kicks out what we have just done but…"

"Shut-up he's coming this way." Molly crawled towards the office door to check it. In all that had happening in the last two hours Molly couldn't remember if it had been locked. Sherlock began to chuckle as he lay there with his hands behind his head. She hushed him. "Sherlock he might hear you and for god's sake move. He'll see you?"

"And?"

"Sherlock!" she hissed trying to hide a school girl giggle. With a sigh Sherlock agreed to move out of view. Though he did it with a pouted lip, of course. There was a knock at the door.

"Mol's fallen asleep again sweetheart?"

"Sweetheart?" questioned wordlessly.

"I told you he is a creep." Molly watched Sherlock trying not to laugh. "Once he's gone I think we should." Whispered Molly to her lover.

"Mine?" she raised her eyebrow. "It's closer than yours." Molly wasn't going to complain. She was looking forward to another couple of rounds with him, but this time she was going to make him an utter mess. "Unlikely Molly." He winked at her.

….

It was twenty minutes before he left. "Married."

"I know."

"Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised you git. I'm a woman I notice men and things about them. So of cause I noticed the line where his ring goes. Oh and the fact I saw him take it off before he entered the lab once."

"Come on." Sherlock reached out a hand and help Molly to her knees. Molly was square in the face with his cock. Molly licked her lips wondering how he would taste. After all he knew her taste. "Get up naughty."

"Spoil sport."

….

Sally sighed. They had been stuck in traffic for half an hour now. "Don't you dare." She slapped Greg's Hand away from the car radio. "I like this one."

"Its crap." He frowned

"Tuff." Greg sighed as the song reached its pathetic and barely understandable chorus.

…..

The pair reached the door to Sherlock's bedroom giggling like teenagers who have just managed to sneak passed his parents. He pick her up and pulled her body close to his. "Ready for round to, Miss Hooper?"

"Three and four Mr Holmes."

"Bad girl." He winked as he carried her in. Sherlock threw her on the bed. "Miss Hooper do you like your shirt?"

"Better if it was off." He smirked and off it went along with the rest of her cloths.

…

Greg got out of the car. "Two minutes. And if you can but be nice."

"I'm good here thank you. But send him my love won't you."

"Naturally."

"Hello Mrs Hudson. Is he upstairs?"

"I think so dearie. Cup of tea?"

"No thanks." Replied Lestrade as he jogged up the stairs to the baker street flat. "Bloody hell. You can't still be in bed Sherlock?!" said Greg as he push the door open. "OH JESUS!" he shouts and covers his eyes.

Sherlock lifts his head from Molly's left nipple. "I'm busy Greg your case can wait till tomorrow."

"Yeah…Uhmm…yeah sorry."

"Shut the door on your way out."

"Uhmm bye."

"GO!"

Greg leaves and firmly shuts the door behind him. "I need a seriously large whisky." He said to himself. "Mrs Hudson, do me a favour. Don't go upstairs for the next few hours. Maybe don't go up until tomorrow."

"Why."

"Trust me." Greg said as he walk out of the door. As he got into his car he sat there for a moment staring into the distance.

"Greg are you okay?"

He turned too looked at her with a slight smirk or disbelief. "You. Are. Not. Going. To. Believe. This."

...

"You need a lock for that door." Molly states to Sherlock as Greg leaves.

"It has one."

"Then use it."

"I've lost the key." Molly giggles as Sherlock pulls the sheet back over them.


End file.
